Patchwork

“Ah! You’re back!” Mr. Woodwinds smiled. He nodded to Octavia, and she noticed that they hadn’t called anyone in during the time she was gone. Then again, she wasn’t sure exactly how long she had been gone: it might have been five minutes or it might have been half an hour. She’d kind of lost track of time when she slipped into her memory.

“Mr. Woodwinds,” Octavia said, taking a deep breath and walking up to the desk. He held out a quill for her to use and pushed her paperwork towards her. She gently pushed the papers back towards him. All three judges gasped.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Woodwinds, Ms. Feathervoice, Mr. Rhythmeter, but I can’t join the orchestra.” She bowed her head low to the ground; Mr. Rhythmeter jumped up in distress.

“What?! What’s gotten into you?” Mr. Rhythmeter yelled.

“Ms. Melody,” said Mr. Woodwinds calmly, “are you sure you wish to decline? You know that after tonight, you will not be permitted a second chance. And the likelihood of any of the Royal Orchestras hiring you after they hear of this event is slim to none.”

Octavia looked up at the three ponies, humiliated. She blinked quickly to try and stop the onslaught of tears.

“I’m aware. I’m just sorry that I wasted so much of your time,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Mr. Woodwinds,” cried Ms. Feathervoice, “how can you possibly be so calm about this?!” Angrily, she turned to Octavia. “You are aware that you have been chosen to play in the Royal Orchestra? As a cellist, nonetheless! Are you aware that you blew away the competition? You are, by far, one of the most talented cellists— and musicians overall— that I have ever met. And now you’re walking away from music?!”

“I’m not walking away from music,” she replied, strangely calm. “I’ve been playing small gigs for local affairs in Ponyville for a good number of moons, now, and I’ve actually been feeling perfectly satisfied with my music.”

“Ms. Melody,” Mr. Rhythmeter said in a gruff voice, “you are being offered the chance to be far more than just satisfied, both musically and financially. Why in Equestria wouldn’t you take this opportunity?! We’ve had musicians drop out last-minute before, but there was always a reason!!!”

“There is a reason,” Octavia said, giving a shaky smile, “and I need to go apologize to her.”

She started to walk out, but paused and nodded awkwardly before she went through the door.

“I apologize deeply for your time. I hope you find a satisfactory cellist to take my place.”

As she closed the door behind her, she heard Mr. Rhythmeter calling something incoherent to her, but she couldn’t care less. She breathed a great sigh of relief as she walked into the lobby, where a few of the musicians stamped their feet for her, assuming she had just been admitted into the orchestra.

“So…”

Octavia turned sharply. Vinyl was walking up to her, trying not to trip in her dress. “You’re a musician in the Royal Orchestra now, huh?”

Octavia opened her mouth to say something, but then decided it would be better not to make a scene. “Come outside,” she said quietly, and motioned for her family to follow.

Once outside, Vinyl repeated the question while scratching her eye. Wait, no— she wasn’t scratching it, Octavia suddenly realized, she was wiping away a tear. She was trying not to cry.

Oh, for the love of Celestia, Octavia thought silently to herself, how dare you be such an oblivious idiot.

“Actually,” she said, clearing her throat, “I’m not.”

“Excuse me?” asked Grandma Melody, not sure if she was joking or not.

“I said, I’m not a musician in the Royal Orchestra. I realized I didn’t want to be.”

“Wha-?!!? How could you-?!? Octavia Melody, is this a joke?!!” inquired her grandmother, in a tone that was far scarier than Mr. Rhythmeter’s or Ms. Feathervoice’s had been.

“No, it’s not. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, but I’ve realized that playing in major symphonies and practicing all the time isn’t what I want to do with my life,” she explained patiently.

“Wait, what?!” Vinyl interjected. “O-Octy, what are you talking about? Th-this has been your dream for years! Since you were a filly!”

“I know,” Octavia replied, “but I’ve changed since then.” She gently stroked Vinyl’s mane, accidentally-on-purpose pulling out the band out of the blue ponytail and watching her mane spring back to its normal shape. “You’ve changed me.”

Her great-grandmother, raging, started to say something, but Martha of all ponies put up a hoof to the elderly pony’s mouth casually and watched the scene in front of her in intrigue.

“Octy… I don’t understand…” Vinyl whispered in a raspy voice. “You wanted this so badly. It… it was your ultimate wish.”

“Vinyl, my ultimate wish was to be happy. I mean, really, that’s what it is for everyone. A wish is something you hope will come true, so you’ll be happy, right?”

Vinyl nodded, still confused. Martha and Elliot and even Grandma Melody now stood perfectly still, watching her talk.

“Well… playing in the Royal Orchestra won’t make me happy anymore. When I realized I’d have to leave my home in Ponyville— our home— to move here… I couldn’t do it. I would miss you too much.”

“Octavia…” Vinyl whispered quietly. A tremor ran through her body and she couldn’t prevent herself from crying any longer.

The same part of Octavia’s brain that forced her to punish herself was now nudging her to keep talking. You need to apologize, it said.

“Vinyl… I-I’m sorry I was so blind to what was going on. In all my nervous excitement, I legitimately forgot that only ponies who lived in Canterlot could play in the Canterlot orchestras.” She swallowed hard, and paused a moment to steady her breath. “If leaving you to live on my own is the cost for being in some big symphony, then I don’t care what the payout is. It’s not worth it.”

By this point, both ponies had tears streaming down their faces. Grandma Melody was using all her brainpower trying to figure the situation out, while Martha held Elliot closely as he watched with peculiar childlike understanding of the magic that had so drastically changed his mother’s cousin.

Vinyl rubbed her eyes vigorously with her hooves, trying to stop the onslaught of tears. “Octavia, I-I wanted to make you happy… if this isn’t what you want, then what is?”

The answer to that question came as an epiphany. “I already have everything I want,” the gray mare realized out loud. “I have my music, and my family, and a home… and most importantly, I have you.” She looked straight at Vinyl, who was trembling violently, from the cold or something else entirely.

“Vinyl… you’re more than just my roommate. You’re my friend. You’re my best friend,” she said shakily. “And I… I love you, Vinyl.” She opened her arms awkwardly for a hug; Vinyl paused and then tackled her to the ground, pressing her face into the earth pony’s shoulder and holding her tightly.

“That’s it,” muttered Grandma Melody quietly, “I live in a family of crazy ponies. I’m going to call the cab.” She quickly trotted over to the street corner to call over a carriage.

“Octavia,” Vinyl mumbled, not letting go of her friend. Tears still streamed down her face. “I… I love you too… b-but I th-thought I was going to lose you…” She choked on the words.

“Vinyl,” Octavia suddenly said in a stern tone, “Please. Never give me a gift like this again.” Suddenly, exhausted from emotions, both of them started laughing at the same time, still crying hard and still not letting go of one another.

“Elliot,” Martha said quietly to her son, “I hope you’re watching this.”

The colt nodded thoughtfully to himself.

Back at Grandma Melody’s house, an old patchwork quilt sat on the couch in the basement, unharmed and ready to give warmth to anyone willing to use it.